Survival
by Haley Moore
Summary: Poem. Sherlocks last thoughts on Reichenbach. Sort of long, and ends more like a story than a poem. Hope you enjoy, I wrote this a year ago. Please r&r!


Survival

A/N: I wrote this long ago. Hope you enjoy! (Note to authy: My mom's comp. Won't let me log into Yahoo yet. I'll be back on tomorrow!)

You hate this man

This man who has terrified you

For a long time

His deep-set eyes

His dome-like forehead

His reptilian oscillating head

You hate this man

He hates you too

You've terrified him also

Your masculine nose

Your piercing eyes

Your tall and lean figure

He hates you too

One a master champion of the law

The other

The Napoleon of crime

Both on the same intellectual level

The greatest foes the world has ever seen

Both fighting for the same reason...

Survival

Survival from each other

Both aware of what the other can do

And both can do a lot

You have been chasing him

Since the beginning of your career

A great career

And he has been trying to avoid you

Since the beginning of his career

A horrifying career

But alas all is coming to an end

One or both shall die today

Neither shall ever be the same

You can hear the screams

Down in Reichenbach

And they frighten you

You know who will die

He knows who will die

We know who will die

Both of you will die

Then you find yourself

Standing at his heels

You write a note

A note saying goodbye

Under the courtesy

Of the man you hate

You have said your goodbye

Then your thoughts go to the

Man your saying goodbye to

He was your friend

He has been at your side since the beginning

You miss him more than anyone...

That's when you and the man you hate

Fight

Fight for that one thing... survival

Your last thoughts turn to flash backs

And memories

You remember your violin

And your pipe

Your home

And your life

Then you see your self falling into a world of water

The last thing you see is a flash of light...

"Goodbye, Watson... Goodbye"

Is all you manage to say

Until you're eyes are covered with darkness

You don't want to die

Not yet

You manage to see

For a second

Now your blind

You hear voices

Your best friend

Your brother

Your landlady

Yourself

Then you think of Watson

Good old Watson

If he was here he would help

You wish you could tell him how much he meant

Then you wonder will he remember you?

Will he mourn you?

Will he even care?

Will he miss you?

You miss him

Thinking of him you can see

he did help!

then you feel water

you breath water

you want air

but it only comes in gasps

you shed a tear

that is soon washed away

for once you can't win

you are about to give up

but then a great opportunity comes your way

a branch is carelessly hanging from a cliff

the same cliff of which you fall

you grab on to it

but it slips

then you see your best friend, your comrade

Dr. Watson

he yells for you

" Holmes... Holmes, My god where are you!

Don't you die on me now Holmes!"

Then there was a silence he was reading the note

"Nooooooooooooooooooooo! He sobs pitiably."

You can't stand it

the pain

the reason for this whole situation was survival

but you soon give it up

those nightmares came to you

the nightmares you forgot came back

then you realize this is it

this is how you die

but wait... no you can't die now

too late

the branch lets you go

" I'm right here Watson!" you yell

he doesn't answer

"Good-bye"

You see a sharp rock

the very same one Moriarty hit

" So this is how Sherlock Holmes dies." You think

" So this is it."

But it isn't

not by a long shot

You hit the rock

But you don't die

At least not yet

You're dying slowly and painfully

You cry

Poor Watson

He never did anything

And now he was going to lose his best friend

The pain

It hurts

It burns

It stings

It kills

And then you see your nemesis

Moriarty

He didn't die

He is standing over you now

With a gun

You can't fight back

" This is the end Mr. Holmes," He says

He bends over you

And he removes some hair in your face

He closes your eyes with the palm of his hand

" I win," He sounds _so_ triumphant

" Congratulations.'' You mutter, not sure if he heard you

There's silence

" At least," You think, " I won't die slowly"

And you can't help but think, that, after all this time he won

He got the last laugh

The last breathe

The last thought

" Goodbye Mr. Sherlock Holmes, goodbye, you were the most honorable of all of my associations. Tis a shame you had to lose... and die."

You _are_ so weak you can barely hear who's speaking

But what you can hear, is a gun being shot

You can feel your life go away

And you feel yet, another bullet pierce your heart

Taking your life away

You're almost dead

You say the last words you will ever speak

" There will be no honor in your death Moriarty, I have died in honor to save England, whereas you will die alone,

By yourself. With no dignity, and no honor. Elementary, my dear Moriarty, elementary, I _have_ _won_!"

He gives you a curious look.

" You're a dying man, Mr. Holmes. Granted I am, right now, superior both in physical means, as well in mental. I have often imagined what this moment would be like, now I know. You are fading Mr. Sherlock Holmes, body, but never in mind, nor soul. Here you are half dead, and you are still making conclusions about things. I shall miss your cocky humor. Goodbye Sherlock Holmes."

You die, right after the final blow was struck.

And I will have to live with the fact that I killed you.

I'm sorry.

Goodbye.

A/N: Okay, so it kind of started a story, and ended a poem. What did you think? Please R&R!


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